The Misadventures of Glaw and Torkel
by Predtards
Summary: Two grumpy, old Yautja are on a mission. A mission so difficult, deadly, and dangerous, that no one knows what may happen to them. Their mission? To capture Oomans. ALIVE.
1. Aw Shucks

Author's Note: Aaaaand one shots are back! Whoo! Sorry for the long wait time, folks. Hero sucked up a lot of our attention in the past few months. But! Now we are back and ready to do hilarious things of hilarity! And so, to start that off, we are doing a one shot for one of our reviewers, Clear as Mud! We gave her this forever ago and have, sadly, been neglecting her. Unacceptable we say! And so, without further ado, here is our gift for CaM!

NOTE! This story DOES NOT, we repeat, does NOT have ANYTHING to do with the characters and world that we have created. This one shot is based off of the most recently released Predator movie and will not have Evie, Marie, Tvrtko, or Dho'mago'te in here at ALL. Understood? Good! Carry on, then.

Disclaimer: We don't own the old Predator movies, the new one, AvP, or any of that! Whatever characters we make up are ours. Otherwise, nope! Moving on.

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Aw, shucks!

Glaw stumped along, grumbling loudly about his fate. "I can't believe this! Can't believe it! After countless years of being a great and noble hunter, I am reduced to THIS!"

Torkel shrugged, scratching at his upper right fang. "It's not all that bad, Glaw. At least we don't have to go join the servants like poor Lovro. I hear they've got him cleaning out the pet cages. Can you IMAGINE?"

Shrugging his still broad and strong shoulders, Glaw grunted. "Yeah, well, Lovro was never the best OR the brightest when it came to hunting. I still maintain that he lucked his way into getting the killing blow on the Queen."

Torkel waved his hand. "You're just grumpy because it wasn't you, you old fogey. You've been whining about that kill for YEARS. I think even Lovro has forgotten about it by now, but not you."

Sniffing indignantly, Glaw took his place as the pilot in their small ship, starting up the engines. Torkel sat next to him, grunting a bit as he sat. Glaw looked over at him. "That knee still bothering you?"

Torkel humphed. "The same it's been for the last hundred odd years. That knee is telling me that this is going to be more trouble than it's worth."

Snorting, Glaw guided their ship out into space. "Well, tell your knee that it should shut it."

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Gently, Glaw guided the cloaked ship down onto a flat, desert area. Stretching, he stood, squinting out into the bright sunshine. Grumbling, he stomped to the back of the ship, grabbing up his weapons and strapping them on.

Torkel came behind him and quirked his head. "Are we going to need our weapons? After all, we've been sent just to capture some _Oomans_. Not to kill them."

Glaw waved him off, straightening his shoulder armor. "Bah. When DON'T you need a weapon? Always good to be prepared. That sort of thinking ahead has kept me alive for this long!"

Torkel shrugged, grabbing his things as well. "Just don't get carried away. You know how you get in fights. We can't afford to mess this up. I don't WANT to clean the Hunter cages. I heard they ate someone a little while back."

Walking to the door, Glaw waved off Torkel's concerns. "Those mutts couldn't do much of anything. And those servants are replaceable. So, why are we here again?"

"To capture some _Oomans_ alive, so they can be put on the hunting planet. Your memory is really going these days, Glaw."

Glaw punched Torkel in the arm. "I know WHY we're on this backwater planet, you ninny! I want to know WHY we're at this particular SPOT on said backwater planet! Got it, rocks for brains?"

Torkel crossed his arms. "Well, I don't think I WANT to tell you now! You COULD ask more nicely."

Growling, Glaw glared at his companion. "If you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll shove my spear right where you never want ANYTHING to hit. That asking nice enough for ya?"

"Hmph. I don't even know why I stick around with you. You're so unpleasant. Fine. We are HERE because apparently there are some _Ooman_ warriors in this area of the world that instill fear and terror into the hearts and minds of all the other _Oomans_. That good enough for you?"

Glaw grunted, marching out into the shimmering heat, with Torkel close behind. Staring around, they attempted to pinpoint an area with the prey they needed.

Pointing, Torkel went to the edge of the cliff and squinted. "I think there's a battle of some sort going on over there. Oh! Perhaps we should move the ship down a bit closer."

"What? But I just parked!"

"Well, we need to be closer. It's not that far."

"No! We can just walk from here!"

"But, getting the _Oomans_ to the ship will be easier if it's closer."

Glaring, Glaw turned and stomped back to the ship, spitting out curses the whole way. Torkel blinked, and followed placidly behind. "This area does have such lovely, warm weather."

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The craft re-landed closer to the battle zone. And, in Torkel's opinion, they were a bit TOO close. "Glaw, I think we need to park just a bit further away. That fight is REALLY close to the ship."

Slamming his hands down, Glaw turned and leveled a mean stare at his friend. "NO. This damn thing is PARKED. It will not be UN-parked until we have the damned _Oomans_ we need. GOT IT?"

Before Torkel could respond, they both heard a strange screaming noise. Looking out the front window, they spotted a dark skinned _Ooman_ stumbing backwards, having been injured. Then, the injured _Ooman_ did something, screamed something else, and all of a sudden there was a loud bang.

Blinking, Glaw and Torkel looked at their now splattered window. Glaw humphed, crossing his arms. "I didn't do anything. That thing just splattered itself all over the front of our ship by itself!"

Torkel gaped in horror. "But, I just CLEANED the ship! It will take forever to get the _Ooman _goo off! THIS is why I told you we should park a little farther away! Your laziness has ruined all my hard work!"

Grunting, Glaw stood. "Whatever. You don't have anything better to do than clean this hunk of junk anyway. I'm sure you'll have fun doing it when we get back."

Torkel crossed his arms. "Ha'ieno is NOT a hunk of junk! She flies us straight and true!"

Groaning, Glaw shook his head. "WHY did you name this thing? You know what? Never mind. I don't care. Let's just get this over with, all right? I'm already sick of being here."

Torkel stood, gently patting the control panel. "Don't you listen to that grumpy old fussbucket, Ha'ieno. You're the best."

Finally, the two old warriors went out into the heat of the day and the raging battle.

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A few hours later, Glaw and Torkel shuffled back onto the ship, looking distinctly worse for the wear and very disgruntled. Chittering in disgust, Glaw tugged off his chest armor, tossing it to the side before going to the pilot's chair and sinking into it with a small groan. "That was AWFUL. Who knew it was so hard to get these buggers alive? They're so… Squishy."

Torkel sniffed, dumping the _Ooman_ on his shoulder to the ground. "Well, no thanks to YOU, that took far too long! We could have gotten that last one, but nooo…. The almighty Glaw had to go and STAB IT IN THE FACE."

Glaw shrugged. "It ran into my spear. Nothing I could do."

Torkel threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "And what about the ten before that one?"

"Their fault for being so delicate. I didn't know their heads would do that."

Growling, Torkel went to the front, leaving the one _Ooman_ they had captured in the back. "This is a TERRIBLE job. I think I'm getting envious of Lovro."

As Glaw began starting up the ship, they both heard a strange screaming noise from behind them. They turned back in time to see the _Ooman_, standing up, waving its arms, before hitting something and exploding.

After the dust had settled, Glaw and Torkel made their way to the back area of the ship. There was dust, smoke, blood and gore everywhere, but the ship was unharmed. Glaw clenched his jaw, growl building in his throat. "Torkel. Did you remember to take the button away from it?"

Torkel withered a bit after hearing Glaw's tone. "Well, I thought I had. See?"

He held out a small black object with three buttons on it. Torkel hit one and they both heard, from somewhere in the distance, a weird beeping noise. Looking down at the black thing, Torkel shrugged. "Who knew there was more than one button thing?"

That was the last straw for Glaw. "You IDIOT! You KNOW we needed to get the button from it! Those vests are the worst! And just LOOK at this mess! It's everywhere! You're cleaning it up!"

Torkel snarled. "Of COURSE I'm cleaning it up, because YOU never do ANY of the work around here! It's always me! Me me me!"

Throwing up his hands in disgust, Glaw stomped back to the cockpit. "That's it, we're leaving. These aren't worth the trouble OR the mess! I'm finding us some _Oomans_ that won't SPLATTER as much!"

Torkel made a face. "Ew. There's brain on your chest armor back here."

Glaw huffed. "Then, wipe it off!"

Torkel did so, then became mildly alarmed as the brain matter got stuck to his finger. "Agh! Why is _Ooman_ brain so STICKY? It's stuck on my finger!"

Flailing his arm about, he launched the small hunk of brain, where it unfortunately landed on Glaw's forehead. The pilot hissed. "You twit! It's on my HEAD! Yuck! Don't spread the mess!"

Torkel sighed. "This job isn't worth it. Maybe we can trade spots with Lovro, before anymore _Oomans_ mess up poor Ha'ieno."

~!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!~!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$!~~!%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!~!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!~!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$#!

End Author's Note: You may all blame Clear as Mud for this hilarious atrocity. We have now fallen in love with Glaw and Torkel, and our grumpy old man predators now get their own miniseries! We'll update that on occasion, as they are HILARIOUS. Hope you all like them as much as we do, cus you've not seen the last of them!


	2. The Big, the Bad, and the Lame

Author's Note: Aaaand here are your favorite grumpy old man preds! You know you missed them and their shenanigans.

Disclaimer: We own Glaw and Torkel, but not the original Pred designs. Happy?

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The Big, The Bad, and the Lame

Torkel stared intently at the screen, focused on the images flashing before him. Glaw huffed, grumpily fidgeting in his seat. Finally losing his already limited patience, Glaw slammed down his fist. "Damn it all, Torkel, will you tell me where we're going! We've been sitting here for hours!"

Torkel didn't even bother to look up. "Oh, calm down. You shouldn't get too excited, or you'll rupture something. I think I've got a few leads on where to look for good prey."

This statement automatically pleased Glaw. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go! Give me a course to set!"

Torkel took it upon himself to set in some coordinates, allowing the ship to find its way to the signals being broadcast. There, they would find some good potential. Leaning back in his seat, Torkel thought to himself that something was just the slightest bit off with what he'd seen, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Shrugging it off, he settled in to watch the screen some more. The _Oomans_ put very strange things on their frequencies.

"Say, Glaw, look at this! There is some older _Ooman_ female with many males! She must be very strong indeed to have so many fawning over her. But, wait! Look! Some younger female has come in on her! The young one… seems to be challenging the old one? What cheek!"

The screen he'd been watching so intently froze, then faded to black with some strange, swirly writing on it, before moving on to other moving images. Torkel threw his hands in the air, growling in frustration. "How could they? I wanted to watch the old one beat down the young upstart! There's never a good fight when you want one!"

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Glaw gazed on at the fight taking place, less than impressed with what he was watching. He shot an angry look at Torkel, then back to the area where the two bulky looking _Oomans_ were duking it out.

"WHAT is this farce you've brought me to, Torkel? Those males aren't even hitting each other!"

Torkel peered closer, then crossed his arms. "Well, it certainly looked more impressive from a distance."

They both watched as one burly male in less than adequate gear charged the other and beat him with a folded piece of metal.

Snorting derisively, Glaw tried to contain his laughter. "They call THAT a hit? I could have taken that guy's head off with that contraption!"

Torkel actually let out a chortle as the male who'd taken the hit with the metal thing bounced off the rubbery containment straps into the other one.

"I admit, this didn't work out quite as well as I had hoped. These are HARDLY able prey. I mean, look at that move! What would that even accomplish in a real fight? All bulk and no skill. Tsk."

A few oomans had looked their way when Torkel had laughed, so both of them slid away, back to their ship on the roof of the building.

As Glaw took his seat, Torkel adjusted the controls for new coordinates.

Torkel was quick to reassure his longtime partner. "Don't worry, these next ones will be great, I'm certain!"

Glaw gripped the controls tightly, trying not to punch Torkel. The two lifted off and left the silliness of ooman entertainment behind them.

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Torkel shifted uneasily. This DEFINITELY wasn't what he'd been expecting. The fighters circled each other slowly, watching carefully. Then, they lunged at each other, grunting and groaning, trying to force the other back.

Shooting an uneasy glance at Glaw, Torkel winced at his friend's posture. Glaw only stood like that, arms crossed, head down, when he was VERY angry. Torkel surreptitiously stepped away, giving himself a little more room in case he needed to dodge.

"Torkel."

"Yes, Glaw?"

Glaw rounded on him with a roar that startled a few nearby _Oomans_. "WHAT IS THIS?"

Torkel gestured towards the ring where one monstrously sized male had finally been pushed out of the small, circular ring. "Well, they ARE of a very impressive size…"

Glow stomped towards Torkel, hands waving. "AND THAT'S ALL! They aren't even DYING after losing the match! And that is FAR too much of a_ Oomans_ anatomy to see! I'll never sleep again!"

Torkel was already heading back to the ship, leaving the heaving, battling masses of alien flesh to their sport. "Well, I'm sure you'll be fine eventually."

They clambered into the ship and Glaw practically threw his helmet at Torkel. The lankier one barely managed to avoid being clocked in the head. Glaw picked up another object to hurl. "HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND THESE FARCES?"

Torkel pointed to the still blaring screen. "Well, you see, I thought that whatever _Oomans_ were on these frequencies were important. _Oomans_ all around this planet observe these few battling each other with great interest. So, I thought that they must be important! See?"

Glaw stopped for a moment, thought on this logic, and grudgingly set down the box he'd been about to throw. "It makes sense, I guess. Maybe we can use that idea still, just not like that."

Enthusiastic at Glaw's unusually calm reception of his schemes, Torkel plopped back down in his chair, flipping through the frequencies quickly. "Perhaps we can find some other sort of battle! One with REAL fighters."

Glaw took the ship back up past the atmosphere of the planet, waiting patiently for Torkel to finish his sweep.

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Glaw slouched in his seat, fussing with his burner. He would look up at Torkel occasionally, then back down. After a few hours of mindlessly puttering around the ship, Glaw poked Torkel in the arm. "Hey, are you done yet?"

Torkel brushed off the poke easily. "Not quite, there is still some data I require."

Groaning, Glaw flopped back down in his seat. "Just hurry it up, will you? I'm getting stiff just sitting up here."

"Yes, yes, you and your joints."

Glaw was aimlessly poking through one of the bins on the ship when he heard Torkel shouting. Charging to the front, he finally heard clearly what Torkel was saying.

"WHAT? That CAN'T be the end! That young thing stole that male from the older one! Cheat! Thief! Scoundrel! Where is the beat down? Alejandro, why?"

Glaw took in his partners shouts, then slowly marched forward, leaning over the seat Torkel was in. Torkel froze.

"Torkel."

"Yes, Glaw?"

"What are you doing?"

"…Research?"

Letting out a howl of rage, Torkel dodged a fist aimed for his head. Glaw chased Torkel about the ship, cursing his friend. "You nitwit! You've lost us hours of time with your senseless viewing! What do you have to SAY for youself?"

"This is bad on my knee and it wants you to stop chasing me with a spear!"

"Weakling!"

A short time later, they were both panting, a bit winded from their wild chase. Glaw tossed the spear away and dragged Torkel to the front of the ship. Torkel gulped in air and sighed. "Maybe… Maybe we should wait a little bit before we go looking for more prey. You know, to verify coordinates."

Glaw nodded, closing his eyes. "Yes. Good idea."

Soon enough, both of them were snoozing soundly in their seats, the sounds of the _ooman_ broadcasts yattering in the background.

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End Author's Note: Can YOU guess what Torkel was watching? Just a genre, not a specific show. Guess! Guess!


	3. The One That Got Away

Author's Note: Here is another installment of our angry old man Preds! Have fun!

Disclaimer: NOTHING.

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The Ooman That Got Away

Glaw yawned, stretching his arms high. His back felt a bit stiff. He sat up and realized he'd dozed off in his chair. No wonder his back was acting up. Torkel had had his head on Glaw's shoulder and it had since fallen backwards, Torkel still snoring lightly in a doze.

Glaw grumbled, feeling all the old aches and pains. In a less than charitable mood, he reached out a hand and gave Torkel a vicious poke in the side. Torkel snorted and started, slipping from his chair and landing forcefully on the ground. Grunting, Torkel stood, glowering at his friend.

"THAT was uncalled for! Now my knee is acting up!"

Glaw shrugged, turning away. "Well, thanks to you and making me nap, my back is all kinds of screwy, so I don't feel bad at all!"

Huffing, Torkel stomped to his control panel, clearly ready to sulk and watch his shows on their receiver. Glaw snorted and went to sharpen his weapons. Silence reigned as Torkel steadfastly ignored Glaw.

Eventually, Glaw became VERY uncomfortable. He hated it when Torkel gave him the cold shoulder. Torkel never shut up, so when he did, it was disconcerting. Sighing, Glaw set down his weapons and walked to the front, angrily plopping down in his chair. Torkel didn't even spare him a glance, eyes glued to the screen.

With a groan, Glaw crossed his arms and took a breath. "Look, it wasn't totally your fault. And my back is better now. So, your knee should feel better. It's been long enough. Besides, we need to get back on the hunt. More prey for the hunt and all."

Slowly, Torkel turned and looked at him, then nodded briskly. "Well, I suppose that's the best apology I'll get out of you. So, now I can tell you my idea."

"What idea?"

"I know where to find the PERFECT prey."

Glaw quirked his head. "Will this require more 'research' on your part? And this better not be stupid!"

Torkel shook his head. "No, the only research we need is where to find him. You remember that one _Ooman_? The one from our last REALLY big hunt? The one that got away?"

Glaw's eyes widened, and he tapped a finger gently on his armrest. "Yes… yes, I remember that one."

Torkel nodded again. "All we need to do is figure out his location. I'm sure we can do that somehow."

Glaw agreed and Torkel turned back to his screen, eagerly looking for their lost prey.

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Glaw looked about, less than pleased. They were in the middle of a large desert, few things in any direction. There was a large rock to their left, but other than that, pretty much nothing. Crossing his arms, Glaw uncloaked and sighed. "Well. Are you SURE this is the right place? Last time he was in that tropical area."

Torkel shrugged. "Well, according to my research, he originally comes from this area and returned here after he escaped from us. I just can't think of why he'd be out here. I see no dwelling."

Glaw was about to respond, when there was a sudden shriek and a small, foul smelling blob of food launched itself towards the two of them. It splatted directly onto Glaw's torso, stinking something awful. Making a face, he scraped off some of the mess, trying to figure out what it was.

Peering at the globs, Torkel nodded to himself. "It's just some old, bad, fish. And, rice? I believe the one we're looking for did all that screaming, and claimed he was a master of seven different kinds of sushi. Whatever that is. Maybe what you got splattered with?"

They both started when an old _Ooman_ man clambered out from under the rock nearby, screeching and hurling more foul globs of the fish and rice at the two warriors. The _Ooman_ was old, wearing tattered and stained garments, and he smelled less than pleasant. A wild look in his eye, he began hollering again, flailing his stick like arms about. His long, grungy hair fluttered about him, adding to the air of general disarray.

Glaw and Torkel eyeballed the strange man who was still flinging a few types of rotten fish at them. Torkel dodged a chunk and spoke to Glaw quietly. "He says that he is a master of seven types of sushi. I'm really not certain what that means."

Glaw snorted, crossing his arms. "Well, it's clear that it's just the ramblings of a crazy old _Ooman_. The man probably can't even tell his nose from his toes anymore. We certainly can't take HIM with us. We'd be laughed off the planet, and then killed. For idiocy."

Torkel and Glaw pondered for a bit while the man kept shrieking and flailing and flinging rotten fish at them. Then, Torkel started. "Do you suppose WE broke him?"

Glaw started. "What now?"

"Do you suppose we broke him? He wasn't like this the last time we ran into him. Perhaps hunting and killing all his teammates in front of him wasn't the best thing for his mind. We've seen it happen before."

Pondering on this, Glaw dodged another volley of badly kept food stuffs. He shrugged. "Nah. Besides, why should we care? We should leave. We still need more prey and our time is running short. We cannot fail in this!"

Turning to leave, Glaw was stopped short by Torkel's arm on his shoulder. Turning, Glaw gave him a nasty glare. "What NOW, Torkel?"

Wilting, Torkel, turned to look at the man now flopped on the dirt beside the rock, rolling about on the ground, chattering to himself. Torkel sighs. "Come on, Glaw. We can't leave him here like this! What if we took him to those other _Oomans_? You know the ones. They could take care of him."

Glaw continues stomping off, snorting. "Why would we want to do a fool thing like that? The man is clearly fine here. He's made it this long."

"Glaw."

Glaw hated it when Torkel used THAT tone of voice. Sighing, Glaw gave up. Torkel wouldn't let this go now for anything. "Fine. Go get the crazy man. It's a shame he turned out this way. I would think it would be a mercy to put him out of his misery. Just look at how far he's fallen!"

Torkel had conveniently knocked out the man with a well placed bonk on the head and was carrying him on his shoulder. Torkel shrugged. "He still managed to get the jump on us from under that rock, you know. And he still has plenty of fight in him."

Not wanting to acknowledge the truth of that statement, Glaw just stomped off, irritated beyond all belief. "Just what I needed… ANOTHER _Ooman_ to look after!"

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Larry sighed, leaning back in his rocker. It was getting close to time to put Rebecca to bed. Yawning, he looked over at his friends. Jerry was busy fussing with one of his hearing aids and Joe was fast asleep, snoring loudly. Larry took another puff on his pipe, watching the sun go down over the fields.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. A distortion of light and air landed on the large front lawn, quickly revealing itself to be a space ship. Larry quirked an eyebrow, then poked Jerry. "Hey. Wake Joe up. Our buddies have come for a visit."

Jerry nodded, leaned over, and gave Joe a sharp poke to the forehead. Joe woke up snorting, startled."What? What? Is it the commies?"

Jerry snorted, carefully putting his hearing aid back in. "You ALWAYS think it's the damn commies, Joe! Can't you think of something else for once?"

Before Joe could spew forth the answer he was clearly concocting, the alien ship opened up and two figures walked out. Larry waved lazily, puffing on his pipe. "Good to see you again Glaw. Torkel. What's that you've got over there?"

Torkel waved happily, then tossed the unconscious man at their feet. Jerry stood, hobbling on his cane, and proceeded to poke the guy on their lawn. "Aw, damn it, you two! We can't be taking in all the people ya'll find! What do you think this is, an orphanage? A day care? A RETIREMENT HOME? Did you know that my oldest boy, Derek, wants to have me put in a HOME? A home! Why, I'll shoot anyone what tries to take me off this land, I tell you!"

Larry sighed. "Jerry, stop your whining. We've got ourselves a guest, and that's that. What's his name, fellas?"

Torkel shrugged and spoke. "He say word lots. Sooshi?"

Larry snorted. "His name can't be sushi. That's fish food."

Joe started and began hollering. "It's the Japs! The damn Japs! They've come for me! The commies will get us all!"

Larry and Jerry yelled in tandem. "SHUT UP, JOE!"

Joe subsided, sniffling, muttering to no one in particular about the grand plot of communists to take over the world through advertisements on the TV. Larry sighed, then returned his attention to Glaw and Torkel and the newest addition to his household. "Well boys, we'll figure that all out eventually. Help get him inside to the spare bedroom. We'll mess with the details later."

Torkel nodded and picked up the still snoozing man from the grass, strolling into the house. Suddenly, there was a high pitched squeal and a blur of blue ran around the side of the house, launching itself at Glaw's leg. Glaw started, but stood his ground against the ferocious onslaught of the tiny _Ooman_ girl.

Rebecca giggled, wrapped around one of Glaw's legs. "Grampa Glaw! I missed you! Is Gramma Torkel here, too? He makes tasty food! And I drew you pictures! Are you staying this time? Won't you play with me?"

Glaw took this all stoically, refusing to stare down into the angelic little face looking up at him trustingly. Rebecca unlatched one of her arms to push a strand of her reddish brown hair out of her eyes, then clamped back down.

Strolling as best as he could towards the porch, Glaw took a seat on one of the steps, nodded occasionally to whatever Rebecca was saying. It was hard to believe that it had been five years since he had brought her here. She had been so tiny then. Not that she wasn't STILL tiny, but once upon a time he could hold her in the palm of one hand.

Torkel finally came back out and Rebecca giggled, running to him. Torkel picked her up and swung her about, before he sat down on the steps near Glaw, Rebecca perched happily in his lap, regaling him with all of her feelings of excitement that she was going into the third grade. Torkel nodded patiently, clearly impressed.

The sun dipped lower in the sky and the five men, and one little girl, watched it go, perfectly content. As the fireflies came out, glinting amongst the grass, Rebecca began to yawn, and Larry decided it was time to get her off to bed. Asking about why Glaw and Torkel were back could wait for a half hour.

Scooping Rebecca up, Larry went inside and told her to get ready for bed. After a few weak complaints, she scrambled into her night dress, brushed her hair and her teeth, and grabbed her favorite stuffed animal, a little llama she called Paco.

She ran back outside and gave everyone hugs and goodnight kisses. Then, yawning more and more, eyes drooping, Larry tucked her in and went back to the porch, settling into his rocking chair. He relit his pipe and smoked it quietly. All the old men gazed into the night sky.

Joe interrupted the moment of peace. "So. Where did you boys pick up the commie lover?"

#$%#&*(*^)*&^$%#$^%^(&)^&*$#%*&()^(&%^&$*%#$%^*&()_^&%&%#%^*()_&(*^%&^$%*^()%^_(&*^(%&#$*%^()^(*)%^&^#&(*)^_(%$#%(&)_^%*#$%*^%&(%*)^_*(%&*^$%#%&$*^(&)$*_

End Author's Note: This WILL all be explained, we PROMISE. In the meantime, is there anyone that YOU would like to see Glaw and Torkel try to capture? Do they succeed? Do they fail? Tell us what you would like to see and we can make it happen!

Thank you muchly!


	4. Quite the Collection

Author's Note: Yay, something amusing and not angsty! This makes us feel much better after writing Perish. Yay!

Disclaimer: We own Rebecca. And that makes us happy! :D But, not too much else.

!$#%$#^$&(*)%^&(*)^$&#^%^*$&($&%#^$$^*$&()%^#%$&#^^%&%*(*%$%#$#$^%$&(%*^$#*^$&%#^$&*(%*)^$#%^&*^$&(%*)$%^&$*(%^$#^$%^#$%&*$(*#^#$%^&*(^%%#^&

Quite the Collection

Larry and Jerry sat back, contemplating the starry sky above them. Glaw and Torkel had told them a most interesting story about how they'd come to find the man who was called Sushi, for now. Joe had lost interest part way through the story, and was busy poking at a particularly interesting bug nearby.

Larry tugged in another breath of his pipe and blew out the smoke, sighing. "Well, we've added another to the collection. What is with you boys and getting us all together?"

Torkel shrugged and Glaw ignored them all, as he usually did. There was a shuffling sound and a creak as the front door opened onto the porch. An incredibly old man shuffled out, leaning heavily on a cane, looking around a bit blearily.

Larry waved to the man. "Evening, George."

George nodded and made his way ponderously to his own rocker, slowly settling his old bones down. After a moment of shifting, he set his cane across his lap, smiling. "You know, I remember when little Becky was just thiiis tall! Seems like yesterday…"

Jerry shook his head at the hand height that George set. " George. She IS that tall. And it WAS just yesterday. She came here as a baby, remember?"

George blinked and quirked his head, before nodding. "Oh yes. Now I remember. Such a sweet little thing, she is. Brightens this old house. Too many grumpy old people here, you know."

Larry and Jerry shook their heads, not wanting to bother pointing out that George was even older than they were, and by quite a bit. He WAS in his 90s, after all. Joe, however, felt like being argumentative.

"Well, George, YOU are one of those 'grumpy old people'. You're, like, SUPER old!"

George started up, clearly offended. Waving his cane about, he snarled at Joe, irate. "How DARE you! Why, I am in the PRIME of my life! I could take on a whole Nazi bunker single handedly! Just watch me! Where's my gun?"

Larry glared at Joe, then turned back to George. "Now, George, there are no Nazi bunkers in South Dakota. You know that. And World War Two has been over and done with for years. There's no need for your gun."

George, mollified, settled down, still mumbling to himself. Larry, having diverted yet another argument, was tempted to give himself a pat on the back. Instead, he puffed on his pipe again, thinking back on little Rebecca. She really was a spot of sunshine to all of them. Made dealing with each other slightly more bearable.

Larry thought back on the story Glaw and Torkel had told them about her rescue.

!$#%^&(_^%&*^(&$#%$^%#$!$%$&(%)%^#^$%$!#%^#&$*%^()&%*^$(%*#^$&#%^&%*(*^%&)(%^($#%$#^!$%^$*(%&)(^#!%#^*&(^)%^$*&#%^#&$*(%^)%*#$&%^&$*%(^)_(%*^%$*^(

_Glaw and Torkel crouched in the rafters, staring down at the group of heavily armed men. Glaw shifted, feeling incredibly bored. "Torkel, are you SURE these guys are worth hunting? They look kinda weak to me."_

_ Torkel nodded, never taking his eyes off of the group below them. "They were on _Ooman_ channels. They are highly wanted criminals of some sort. I think they'll be fun to hunt!"_

_ Glaw sighed. "I would have preferred another battlefield."_

_ Scowling, Torkel checked on his laser cannon. "You ALWAYS get to choose where we go! The last, like, eight planets! And a bunch here on this planet! It's MY turn!"_

_ Glaw waved him off. "Fine, fine, let's just get this over with."_

_ In the blink of an eye, both predators were in and among the warriors below, killing rather gleefully. Even with all their guns, the _Oomans_ were soon taken care of, their bodies hanging from the rafters, some missing their skulls._

_ Glaw stopped cleaning the skull he was working on, freezing. Torkel also froze, watching his partner, wondering what Glaw had heard. Standing, Glaw crept towards a side door, releasing his wrist blades, ready to attack._

_ He kicked open the door with ease and stepped in, ready to take on more warriors, hoping to add to his trophy collection. He had not expected to end up in a room filled with children._

_ The tiny_ Oomans_ stared up at where they thought he was, considering he was still cloaked. A few of them began to cry, slightly older children trying to hush them. Glaw wasn't certain as to what was going on here, but he was pretty certain that he didn't like or approve of it._

_ He went back out to Torkel and showed the lankier warrior the room. Torkel quirked his head, horribly confused. "Well, I guess some of what the frequency said makes sense now."_

_ Glaw chattered his mandibles irritably. "Well? What did it say?"_

_ "It said something about young ones going missing. A slavery ring? Only of children. _Ooman T'rafikin_. That is what the frequency said."_

_ Glaw looked at the tiny faces in front of him. "Well, now what do we do?"_

_ Torkel contemplated the group before him, then smiled behind his helmet. "I have an idea!"_

!#$%$^%*()(#%$%*(%)&*^#$!%*^&()^*$#&^#$%^^&*$(^&*)*&$%^#%*&%(*^&(%$^%#$%^&*%(*&%^&*#$%^#%$&*$(%^(%$^&#$#%^#%$*&%^(*^)(%*^&(*^)(^&)%*&)^%*^(%^&

_A few weeks after finding all the _Ooman_ children, Glaw and Torkel sat outside a rather dingy and sad looking building, both of them scowling fiercly._

_ "Why can't they get her to her mother?" Torkel growled, flexing his hands in frustration. They both watched as the tiny girl child toddled about, the other children and the adults watching ignoring her completely._

_ She walked slowly about, but some other kids running by knocked her over. The tiny thing sat up, lips trembling, sniffling, and tiny tears rolled down her face. But, she struggled to her feet again, muddy hands trying to wipe off the dirt and tears from her face._

_ Glaw had had enough. With a snarl, he leapt down, and carefully followed the little girl around the grassy area. If he thought a child or adult was getting to close, and might knock her over with their thoughtlessness, he pushed them over, to let the girl pass._

_ Soon, she had made her way to the edge of the fenced area and she slipped behind some bushes. Glaw followed and uncloaked, kneeling down to tap the little thing on her shoulder. She turned and looked up at him, lips trembling again._

_ Now uncertain as to what to do, Glaw reached out a hand and set it on her head. His hand easily engulfed her head, and he was at a bit of a loss as to how this made anyone feel better. He lifted his hand up and quirked his head, wondering if she was still making that face._

_ She seemed confused, so he put his hand back on her head again. A few more minutes passed, and he checked on her progress. Now, she seemed to have a tiny smile on her face. Glaw nodded, as this was an improvement._

_ She reached up and grabbed his hand, setting it on her head, giggling. He lifted it up, but she clasped her tiny, chubby arms around it, keeping it to her head, giggling more. Staring blankly at the child, he quirked his head again, wondering how he could get her to let go._

_ Torkel slipped up behind him, also uncloaking. The little girl looked up at him, smiled, then grabbed one of Torkel's hands. She held it, looked it over, then plopped it onto her head, laughing out loud. Torkel turned to Glaw, completely unused to this sort of reaction to his presence._

_ "Glaw?"_

_ "What."_

_ "Why is she putting my hand on her head?"_

_ "I dunno. She feels like it."_

_ "Well. What should we do with her?"_

_ The two pondered on this, while the tiny _Ooman_ child clambered onto them, locking her arms and legs around one of Glaw's legs. As he attempted to pry the ridiculously tiny thing from him, Torkel hit upon a brilliant idea._

_ "Glaw!"_

_ "What."_

_ "We should take her to the others! You know, those people we rescued!"_

_ "I didn't do any rescuing! It was you! You and your need to help strays."_

_ Torkel paused to give Glaw an incredulous look , the effect of which didn't come off well, due to his helmet. It was usually Glaw who insisted on helping people. Torkel just went along with it. Shrugging, Torkel carried on._

_ "Well, whatever. We can leave her with them! They've been saying they're lonely with only each other for company."_

_ Glaw thought on this, holding the girl in his hands, as far away from him as he could. She laughed, patting at his hands and arms, trying to reach out to his face. Finally, Glaw nodded and cloaked, making sure the girl was hidden under his device. The _Oomans_ might question a random child floating in the air._

_#$%^&*(*)$^(&%^&#$^%#$%&()*^$*#$#%$^%&*^&()*^%#^$&%^$%&^*&(*%)^%&^#$%^&*()&(&%^$%#$%^&*()^%$#%$%#^&*()^&%^#$*(^%)&%*^#(*)&(%*^$*&*()(^%&*^&(*$#^&#$%#*&^_

_ Larry sighed, watching the sun come up. He was always up early, and he enjoyed these minutes of peace before the others woke and rained chaos around him. Leaning back in his rocker, he wrapped his robe around him a bit tighter, shivering in the cool air. Winter would be here soon._

_ Squinting into the rising sun, he thought he saw something shimmering nearby. Then, Glaw and Torkel appeared before him. He was used to their entrances by now and simply waved at them. He was about to ask if they wanted any coffee, when he spotted a small bundle in one of Glaw's arms._

_ Larry quirked his head, curious. They often brought back strange things for him and the boys to marvel at. Glaw stepped forward, and handed the cloth wrapped lump to him. For a moment, Larry wondered what the aliens had brought him that was so heavy and warm._

_ Eyes widening, Larry pulled back the cloth. There, in his arms, was a tiny girl, couldn't be more than 3 years old, with red blond hair. She was sleeping soundly, tiny chest rising and falling slowly. Larry looked up, ready to ask all manner of questions, only to find both the warriors gone._

_ Sighing deeply, he carried her into the house, settling down on the hideously patterned couch to hold her until she woke. Hopefully she wouldn't be too upset. As the sun rose and the house awoke, he began thinking of a good cover story for the new addition to the family, and how he would have to clear out the extra room upstairs for her._

_ As George shuffled in, beginning to ask about the girl, all Larry could think of was "Will I have to paint her room pink?"_

_!#$%$^&*(*)^&$#^%^!#%$^#$*&(%$%#^$%!#$%^$&*()%^&#&#$^%&^*(*)%&*^$&*#$%&#$^*&()%&*^$&#&$%^#$&*^$&(*)%^$%^&#%^&^*()%$%&%$*%^()%^$&#$^&*&(*)%^&*^$_

Larry sighed, thinking back on that first day. Rebecca had been a bit distraught to find Glaw and Torkel gone, but she had settled in quickly, in the way that small children could. He ended up NOT painting her room pink, as none of the men would have anything close to the color pink in their house. They went with a pretty shade of light blue instead.

As they all stared into the darkness, Joe began to snicker. Larry raised an eyebrow at the most cracked of their group. Joe smiled, teeth shining in the night. "I still can't believe George told little Becky to call Torkel Grandma!"

The others smiled or laughed and George sniffed righteously. "Well, every child needs a Grandma AND a Grampa! And we're all men folk here! No Grandma in sight. And I thought Torkel fit the bill the best."

At that moment, Torkel wandered out of the house holding a plate of cookies and wearing an apron. He handed the plate of cookies to Jerry, then sat down next to Glaw, the two chatting away. George nodded sagely, pointing. "There, see? Everyone needs a grandma to make them cookies."

Larry sighed, munching on a slightly burnt chocolate chip cookie. "George. You do know that Rebecca and Joe made these this afternoon, right?"

George blinked, confused. "Well, Torkel was the one who brought them out!"

Jerry chimed in, pointing at Torkel's odd attire. "Doesn't that apron saw 'kiss the cook' on it?"

Joe shrugged. "That, or 'KILL the cook'. It's too dirty, which makes it hard to tell. We really need to do laundry more. That's the third day in a row that Becky has worn the same dress."

George, still nodding, replied calmly. "That's why we need grandmas around."

!#$%$^&%(&)_)%$(*#$&^$%*(_)%^#$&%$^!%$#^WE&*()&*_&^%$##$%^)(^&%(*#$^%*&^(&)*&^%#$%^%*&()_*&%^(*&^&%^#$#^%&^*(%*^*_&^%$*&%^#$%&*()*^%*$&#%^#&

End Author's Note: YAY! We love fluffy things. And we really needed it after that second chapter of Perish, and before the third one. This meets our needs!

So, someone has given us an idea for a character to have Glaw and Torkel face off against, as well as more flashback things like this to explain where all these people came from! So, look forward to it and enjoy!


	5. Smoke and Mirrors

Author's Note: Goodness! We're alive! Amazing, we know. We're sorry for the lack of updates recently, but it's been tough times around here for the two of us, which makes writing difficult. We're trying, we swear. At any rate, here are our favorite grumpy old man Preds to brighten the day up!

Smoke and Mirrors  
Glaw sighed, tapping a finger on the console board. It had been a few days without any new leads on worthy opponents for the hunter planet. Torkel was doing his usual research, but was coming up empty handed so far.  
Heaving a heavy sigh, Glaw leaned back in his seat, propping his feet up, and resigned himself to spending the rest of the day doing nothing of any particular interest. Settling in for a long nap, Glaw started and fell off his chair with a small grunt when Torkel burst in, yammering incoherently about something or another.  
Grumbling, Glaw placed his hands on Torkel's shoulders, stopping the taller Yautja in his tracks. "WHAT. Are you going on about, Torkel?"  
"I've found them! Worthy opponents! Highly skilled!"  
Glaw had his suspicions about this, but checking out a false lead was better than sitting in the ship, so he nodded at Torkel to continue, crossing his arms.  
Torkel began gesturing wildly. "They are spoken of all around this planet! They hide in the shadows, never seen by those they are sent to kill. They always finish the job they are given! The most highly trained of all spies and assassins! They are practically worshipped!"  
Going to his chair, Glaw prepared to head out. "Well, where do we go to find these… What were they called?"  
"N'ee'nga! They are called N'ee'ngas!"

The clan leader stared calmly at the woman sitting in front of him. This businesswoman was very dangerous, and very ambitious. He had no desire to cross her, if he could avoid it. She laced her fingers together, propping her chin up on them.  
"I have heard that you are the best."  
He made no move. Give nothing to the enemy, or your allies. He wasn't sure yet what she was. Besides, the reputation of his clan, and their work, spoke for him. She leaned back, eyeing him. "Silence. I like that. For this work, I must have an oath of secrecy. Only a few of the biggest companies, and most powerful governments, even know anything about what I will tell you. Do I have your word?"  
He inclined his head. The work of his clan was ALWAYS confidential. Silence was an inherent part of their work, both physically and politically. Keeping quiet made more friends than enemies.  
This seemed enough of an answer to appease the woman and she stood, picking up a file, and walking towards him. Stopping in front of him, she looked up at him calmly. "This file contains all of the details you will need for your work. Read through it now. Once you're done, I'm going to destroy that. I hope you have good memory."  
He opened the manila folder and began to read. Though his face showed nothing, covered as it was by his mask, he was legitimately surprised by what he found within. He had expected the usual thing. Assassination, stealing a prototype of something, kidnapping. The usual. This… He wasn't sure what to make of it. Aliens were not what  
he usually dealt with.  
He read through everything quickly, committing it all to memory, before handing it back. She went to the fireplace and threw the folder in, watching it until nothing was left. She turned and faced him once more. "Your job is to find and kill these creatures. I would say that you should try and bring one back alive, but that has proven VERY  
difficult. A dead one will be good enough. But, especially, we want their weapons and technology. As you read, they are far more advanced than we could even dream of. Get us a corpse and get us the hardware. That is all."  
He nodded. This job would be interesting. Before he left, she spoke once more. "My company is very desirous of what you can procure. But, be careful. Many attempts have been made to capture or kill these things. Few have succeeded, and they've been coming to this planet for millennia. Do not underestimate them, like so many others."  
He did not deign to give her even a head nod. He had read the file. He knew that, most likely, whoever was sent on this mission wouldn't come back alive. But, at least it was a challenge. And that is, truly, what he and his clan lived for.

Torkel frowned behind his helmet, deeply confused. He couldn't fathom how these N'ee'ngas had become so feared. The ones he and Glaw had found so far were less than impressive. They screamed a lot and were not nearly so stealthy as he had been led to believe.  
Glaw flung another one of the very weak N'ee'ngas across the room with careless ease. The stocky warrior began stomping his way across the floor towards his friend, coming to a halt right in front of Torkel. "WHAT is the meaning of this? If these are warriors, then I'm a Kainde Amedha queen! And what is with all of these contraptions? Fake land, fake buildings, all manner of mechanical devices. Hardly a fitting field of battle."  
Torkel looked at their surroundings. It really hadn't been what he'd thought. All of these warriors, tucked away in plain sight, in the middle of a very large Ooman city, in some strange metal building with all of the fake things. Even the weapons of the warriors had been weak and fake. Most had turned and fled when he and Glaw had revealed themselves. Hardly good sport. He and Glaw hadn't even bothered to kill any of them. It just wouldn't have been very fair. Though, their screaming WAS beginning to give him a headache.  
With a shrug, Torkel waved off Glaw's glare. "Well, perhaps these are not the warriors we're looking for. We can continue our hunt elsewhere, yes?"  
Glaw grumbled something in reply, and it didn't quite sound like a "no", and so Torkel recloaked and started walking towards the exit. "Then let's move on. Plenty more places to look!"

About two weeks later, Glaw and Torkel were perched up in some trees, staring intensely at the compound below. Glaw shifted a little, feeling the creaking in his knees and ankles. He hated getting old. Why couldn't he have just died in glorious battle, instead of being relegated to this? Following a half wit across the galaxy. A terrible end to an illustrious battling career.  
Torkel waved his arm excitedly. "Glaw! Look there! Ma'oonks! These are great warriors! But, they must be provoked into battle."  
Glaw watched the old human men shuffling about and had his doubts about their battle prowess. They looked about as strong as the leaves they were collecting, and just as brittle. The two yautja dropped from their watching positions and began to advance towards the low wooden building, when they both stopped.  
Something was wrong. There was something around them. Though they could not see anything, they hadn't battled for centuries for nothing. The two were instantly on their guard, weapons out, crouching down into familiar stances. This may very well be an interesting fight for once.  
There was a sharp whirring noise, and Glaw dove forward into a roll, while Torkel darted behind a tree. Small blades lodged into the ground and trees where they had been standing only moments before. They both scanned the area, but their heat vision told them nothing. Whoever was there was hiding, and very well.  
More whirring, and the two predators dodged away, narrowly avoiding more blades. They ended up near each other and Torkel whispered to Glaw. "Who is doing this? I can't see anything of them! It's like our own shadows are after us!"  
Glaw perked up, something instantly clicking in his mind. "Torkel! The N'ee'ngas! Weren't they never seen? Shadow warriors?"  
Torkel nodded slowly. "Yes… But, we found some! And they were weak! Nothing like this sort of skill."  
Shrugging, Glaw crouched, readying his wrist blades. "I do not claim to understand what that was all about, THESE are true warriors. We cannot see them, just as they cannot see us. No matter what they are, they must be defeated. But, let's try to take one alive. We have to send SOMETHING to the hunter planet."  
Torkel nodded in agreement, and they both listened intently, for any hint of a sound. Then, in a whirling of blades, they attacked. With practiced ease, both warriors hurled their weapons, albeit somewhat blindly. The attacks were to buy them enough time to flip through their different vision fields, trying to find their opponents.  
The first few settings showed them nothing as they darted away from more blades. The setting for hunting the Kainde Amedha showed them some flickers of movement, but the opposing warriors were too fast and too well hidden still. Finally, they set their helmets to search out heartbeats.  
The battle went quickly from there. Using their enemies' heartbeats to trace their movements, the two ancient battlers darted through the trees, slaughtering any opponents in their path. The hidden warriors put up an excellent fight, but in the end, they simply weren't experienced enough.  
Glaw and Torkel stood in the midst of the slaughter, watching the heartbeats slowly fade. With a sigh, Torkel knelt, prodding at a now cold corpse. "What a shame. We got so caught up in our battle, we forgot to spare some to take."  
Glaw shrugged, in too good of a mood to bother feeling bad. He flicked some of the blood from his blades, feeling very pleased with the battle. It wasn't often anymore he really got a work out. Suddenly, there was a weight on his head and shoulders.  
Swiftly, Glaw thrust upwards, trying to impale the foolish being that had landed on his head. Unfortunately, this N'een'gha was even better than the ones he had just taken down. It flipped off of his head, darting off into the trees.  
Letting out a roar, Glaw began charging off after the interloper, but halted when he heard another roar, coming from his partner. Wheeling about, Glaw dove in, slashing at one of the warriors daring to harm Torkel. Again, the warrior avoided his sweeping blow, vanishing into the trees, even the heartbeat leaving his vision field. The second warrior simply jumped up, getting lost in the thick foliage.  
Glaw looked at Torkel, worried despite himself. "Hey, you weakling. How could you let them get the jump on you like that? If you got hurt, don't think I'm helping you back!"  
Torkel laughed, holding his side. Glaw could clearly see the fluorescent blood beginning to well up between his friend's fingers. Torkel waved off Glaw, knowing how concerned his friend would be. "Don't worry, Glaw. I've gotten much worse. Those Oomans didn't quite know where my heart was, so they missed. Just got a couple other organs on the way. I'll be fine!"  
Glaw sniffed, turning on his heel to stomp off. "Well, come on! Let's go get that scratch patched up. And you better not bleed on the seats!"  
Torkel smiled to himself, following Glaw back to the hidden ship. "I'll do my best not to. I hope we get a chance to fight those N'een'gha's again! That was fun. I haven't been hurt like this in years!"  
Glaw opened the ship up and strode on, tugging out a med kit as he went. "We'll deal with them when that happens. In the mean time, you're bleeding on the floor! I'm not cleaning that up for you!"  
"You never do any cleaning anyway!"

The clan leader held the throw away phone to his ear, speaking to the woman that had hired him and his men. He frowned slightly, thinking of the good men he'd lost. Those beasts would pay for that. Finally, she picked up and spoke. "Well?"  
"They've been tagged."  
"Good. Monitor and report back in one week."  
He hung up the phone and threw it into the river nearby, turning to go back to his home. This assignment was turning out to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. Maybe he should send out the call to the other clans. A grim smile slipped over his face, then quickly vanished. He would need another phone.

Author's End Note: Again, our deepest apologies for the radio silence as of late. We're trying, we honestly are. Much love!


	6. Clean Up

Author's Note: We know you all missed your regular doses of Angry Old Man Predators, so here you are! The return of Glaw and Torkel! You're welcome.

Disclaimer: We don't have predators in our attics. Due to not having any attics.

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Clean Up, Clean Up, Everybody, Everywhere!

Spring had come to the small house at the end of the gravel road. Jerry popped his back, taking in his work in the garden with pride. Green shoots sprouted up everywhere, sparkling with the water he had just given them. The vegetables would be wonderful come fall. Joe would have a field day with them. Looking around, he saw all of his comrades at various tasks.

Larry was working on beating the dust out of the rugs from the house. Old fashioned, maybe, but worth it. Joe was busily washing the windows of the second floor, singing loudly and badly along to the radio on the porch. Even George and little Becky were pitching in. Rebecca was cleaning their one car, scrubbing all the caked on road dirt from it, occasionally spraying the others with the hose, giggling her girlish giggle. George was carefully polishing all the silver in the house with delicate rubs, clearly focused on his task.

Jerry smiled. Nothing like a good spring cleaning. And Becky had a concert coming up in a few days. Recorder, or something like that at the school. As he looked around the yard, the only one he didn't see was Sushi. The Japanese man had still not told them his name, so he remained Sushi in the minds of the others. Jerry set his trowel down, before going in the house. Just before he entered, George glowered at him.

"Don't you walk on those nice, clean floors with your dirty boots, boy. Understand?"

Rolling his eyes, Jerry sat in a rocking chair and carefully unlaced his boots, before walking inside in his stocking feet. Peering around, he could see the signs of cleaning all around the small farm house. Even the kitchen had been reorganized, thanks to Joe.

Jerry went through every room of the house, even the basement and Becky's room. Nothing. Finally, he opened the hall closet and found a small pile of dust underneath the door to the attic. He knew Becky had cleaned the closet earlier today. Pulling on the cord, the small stairs dropped from the ceiling, revealing an opening into the attic. He sighed and pulled his creaking joints up the stairs.

The attic wasn't a dark place. It had two large windows on either side and a few string bulbs hung throughout the space. Peering around, he saw the trail of disturbed dust roaming around the attic space. They had been saving this task for last, since this was where all their possessions went to hide. Following the trail, it ended at a small trunk. He stared at it, confused.

Suddenly, shouts and banging came from the trunk and Jerry jumped back nearly a foot, before recognizing the voice.

"Sushi? You in the trunk?"

More noises.

"Right, taking that as a yes."

Carefully, Jerry unlatched the trunk and opened it. Out popped an irate Japanese man, yelling and waving his hands about. Jerry shook his head.

"Sushi. Why are you in the trunk? Or in the attic at all? You have a room."

Sushi glared, lifting his chin. "Too noise. Come away until gone. Trip."

Jerry nodded. "I see. Well, you want to come down, then? I'm sure there's something you could do to help out. Uh… I need help with the flower beds. Weeding and the like."

Jerry turned to leave and Sushi paused. Jerry carefully lowered himself down the steep stairs, not pausing to see if the man was following. Finally, Sushi sniffed and grudgingly followed. He couldn't stand doing nothing while others were busy. It was not in his nature.

Going outside, Jerry got Sushi a trowel, some gloves, and a broad brimmed hat. As Sushi suited up, Jerry led him to a flower patch by the house. Nodding, Sushi began to work, before Jerry put a hand on his shoulder. Sushi snarled, trying to shake his hand off.

Jerry gripped harder. "Listen up. See where all the red flowers are throughout the yard?"

Nodding, Sushi peered around suspiciously.

"Good. Now, NEVER touch the red flowers. Ever."

Sushi stopped, staring at the serious, dark face of Jerry, before nodding slowly.

"No touch. Fine. Why?"

"I'll explain later. It's for a good reason, I promise."

At that point, Rebecca stuck her head around the corner of the house. "A REALLY good reason! Serious!"

Sushi scowled as she vanished, and attacked the weeds with a vigor he usually saved for his worst enemies. Jerry returned to his vegetables. Thinking, he wondered when Glaw and Torkel would be coming by again.

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Torkel was busy polishing his favorite skull. It had a gorgeous shape, perfectly oblong, with all the teeth still in. With a pleased sigh, he placed it just so on his trophy case. He had been busy cleaning his part of the ship, though there was much to go. Leaving his quarters, he went in search of his companion, in desperate need of some help to clean the kitchen area. He didn't even know things could grow in that color on plates.

Glaw was at the computers, catching up on some messages. Torkel marched in, tapping his shorter companion on the shoulder. Glaw looked up, a frown on his face. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

"What do you want?"

"I need your help in the kitchen!"

"Why? You know I don't cook."

"Not for cooking! Cleaning! It's spring cleaning time!"

"…What?"

Sniffing, Torkel grabbed his friend and dragged him off. "Everything needs a good cleaning around here! What if we bring Re'be'ka on the ship? It must be clean! Also, you really need to polish your trophies more. They look… Yellow."

Glaw yanked his arm away. "They do not! And if you've messed with them, so help me, I will end you! They are hanging just so, and if you mess with them, you'll ruin it!"

"I would not! Besides, they're YOUR job to clean! Now put on some gloves and get scrubbing!"

With muttered curses, Glaw obeyed, still uncertain as to why Oomans only cleaned in the spring on their planet.

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End Author's Note: Spring cleaning, woo! We don't do that. We clean everything when someone's mother is coming over…


End file.
